


The Pros and Cons of Avengers Tower (It's Mostly Cons)

by WakeUpDreaming



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5 Times, Avengers Tower, Bad Boy!Steve, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, F/F, Frozen (2013) References, Geek!Bucky, Handcuffs, M/M, Top Steve Rogers, interruptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 20:37:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2039277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakeUpDreaming/pseuds/WakeUpDreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 5 times living in Avengers Tower interrupts sexytimes and the 1 time Steve and Bucky don’t care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pros and Cons of Avengers Tower (It's Mostly Cons)

**Author's Note:**

> That summary was the working title for the fic until just about now. If I tagged every ridiculous part of this fic I think I would literally cry into my hands because it is ridiculous. I hope you enjoy this because I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope what I found funny others find the same!

* * *

 

1

Being a superhero has its perks.

Living in what is basically a frat house with multiple people with IQ’s higher than the building and superpowers he can’t even fathom? That’s not one of those perks.

Bucky’s still getting used to the fact that he wakes up every morning in bed next to Steve, usually wrapped around all the covers and squished up against Steve, who is usually very much without covers.

This particular morning he wakes with Steve’s elbow in his gut, wrapped up in a comforter, two sheets, and a quilt Sam’s mother made them. He feels a bit like a burrito.

He rolls out of the way, finding himself stuck.

“You need a hand?” comes Steve’s voice. It’s groggy and a little hoarse from sleep. It’s one of the best sounds Bucky’s ever heard. “You look like you need a hand.”

Bucky wiggles in his blanket cocoon. “A little bit,” he replies. “How did this happen, anyway? I think they tangled.”

“You were kicking me something fierce last night,” says Steve, “running in place and rolling around and stuff.” His hands go to the blanket, and Bucky rolls on top of them. “Okay, that’s not fair.”

“Wasn’t on purpose,” Bucky grumbles. “I guess I’m stuck here.”

Steve’s expression goes a little devious. “Then I guess I have you where I want you.”

Bucky smirks up at him. “I like the way that sounds.”

Steve rolls on top of him, straddling what Bucky can tell Steve assumes are his hips, but he’s actually sort of sitting on his knees. “Now what to do with you.”

Bucky makes an attempt at kissing Steve, but Steve moves, pulling at the blankets and rolling Bucky out of a couple of them. Bucky’s left in a sheet and nothing much else.

“My hero,” says Bucky, deadpans.

Steve leans down to kiss him, hot and open mouthed. Bucky reaches up to pull at Steve’s hair, not gently and just hard enough for Steve to moan into Bucky’s mouth. Steve’s hands run up Bucky’s sides until the wrap around the sheet, pulling it down slowly, so agonizingly slowly, until Steve rests his hands at the tops of Bucky’s thighs.

Bucky pushes up into the heat of Steve’s hands, whimpering a little into Steve’s mouth. He breaks the kiss to gasp. “Come on,” he sighs, “Steve, no teasing, you jerk.”

“I don’t know,” Steve says, grinning horribly. He brushes his fingertips along Bucky’s muscles, his inner thighs, and Bucky knows Steve is doing his best to keep his hands away from where Bucky wants them.

Bucky decides that, if Steve is going to play dirty, Bucky will too. Bucky drops his hands from Steve’s hair and runs his fingertips down Steve’s spine. Steve gives a shuddering gasp, and it wipes that grin off his face in a second.

“You forget,” says Bucky, “that I know all of your little weaknesses.”

Steve bites his lip, and sighs. “Well, if you’re going to do that.”

Steve bends down, and presses short, sweet kisses to Bucky’s chest, his stomach, down to his inner thighs, dragging his lips against Bucky’s skin, and god, it’s so good, but it’s taking so long.

“Please,” Bucky hears himself moan, “I don’t even care anymore, just, please.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Steve chuckles, and he drags his lips up Bucky’s cock, finally.

Bucky groans out a million sort of expletives.

And then Steve’s phone goes off. “America, fuck yeah! Comin’ again to save the motherfuckin’ day yeah!”

Steve jumps so high he loses his balance and flies off the bed. “Holy shit!” he exclaims. “Holy fucking what is that?”

The ringtone continues, and Steve jumps up from the ground, tearing apart the room to find the source of the music. Bucky makes the decision not to tell Steve about how Skye and Natasha had stolen everyone’s phones at the last meeting and changed all of the ringtones, because he actually sort of likes Heavy Metal Lover for his ringtone and wants to see how long it takes Steve to figure it out.

Steve’s got cushions flying everywhere, and the ringtone just keeps repeating itself. Bucky ties the dark blue sheet around his neck and stands on the bed, hands planted on his hips in what he hopes is a very heroic stance.

Finally, Steve reaches the phone, and picks it up. “STARK!” Steve shouts. “Did you change my ringtone to that?”

“No,” says Tony, “but I could hear Metal Arm screaming shit from my lab, and that’s three floors away from you. This is me calling to say stick a cork in it.”

Steve’s expression is a combination of annoyed and mortified. “Sorry,” he says, wincing, and then hangs up the phone.

Steve looks up to Bucky, and promptly bursts into laughter.

“When did naked Superman get in here?” he says through the laughter.

Bucky sings the ringtone at the top of his lungs, but he changes the lyrics to, “America, fucks me!”

Steve collapses to the floor he’s laughing so hard.

* * *

 

2

Avengers Tower is practically empty. Pepper dragged Tony to Milan for fashion week, Natasha’s stolen Skye to visit the Smithsonian in DC for the weekend, Clint and Sam have gone to a gun show in southern New Hampshire, Bruce is giving a talk on gamma radiation at Harvard, Thor’s in Asgard, and Steve and Bucky have the building to themselves.

Steve has decided that this rare opportunity presented to him is a cue from the universe that a romantic night is in store. Bucky’s been back to him for a year now, and it’s something to celebrate.

Steve gets roses, spreads the petals around the bedspread covered in dark red sheets Skye had recommended to him with a wink and a smack on the butt. He lights candles around their apartment, using the extra rose petals to line the way from the door. He puts on Winter Soldier boxers under his clothes, because they’re hilarious and he knows it’ll make Bucky laugh. He makes a playlist on his iPod, a Christmas present from Natasha and Clint, and fills it with a bunch of songs he thinks will set the mood.

And when it’s all set up, he texts Bucky, “Let me know when you’re on the way home from the movie,” because he wants to get in at least an episode of Archer before Bucky gets back, and there’s no way he’s going to sit here in his underwear twiddling his thumbs while he waits for Bucky to get back.

Bucky texts him with a “;) on my way” about five minutes later, and Steve takes a deep breath. He sits on the bed and pulls off his sweatpants and tee shirt. And he waits.

As the front door to the apartment creaks open, Steve hits the button on the music player, and Snow Patrol’s “Somewhere Only a Clock is Ticking,” begins, and Steve waits, a little nervous.

“Steve?” he hears Bucky call. “What is – oh.” He lets out a little laugh. “I like your boxers.”

“Thanks.”

“I think they’d look better on the floor.”

It’s the stupidest line ever.

And somehow it’s the sexiest thing Steve’s ever heard someone say. Bucky shrugs off his jacket and crawls onto the bed, launching himself at Steve. Bucky grabs Steve’s face, kissing him firmly as he and Steve scramble to unbutton his shirt. Steve shoves it off of Bucky’s shoulders.

“Just out of curiosity,” Steve asks against Bucky’s lips as he pulls Bucky’s belt off and tosses it across the room, “was it the rose petals that got you like this or me in the boxers?”

“Boxers,” Bucky murmurs, “so the boxers. But they can be off now.”

They strip all the way, and Bucky pulls away, giving Steve a look that stirs something in his heart that reminds him why he set everything up so perfectly, why he spent so much time making everything just right.

“I love you,” Steve blurts out. “Bucky, god, I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” says Bucky, and the way he so gently brushes blond hair out of Steve’s eyes, even with such a light touch, sets Steve’s skin on fire. “Is that why you did all this? To tell me? Because I’ve known. For basically ever.”

Steve laughs, shakes his head. “No, that wasn’t planned.” He can’t keep his hands off of Bucky. “It’s because it’s been a year.”

“No,” says Bucky, “because we got together in September, and it’s only June.” Bucky pauses, realization washing across his face. “Oh.”

Steve nods. “You’ve been back for a year now.”

Bucky’s eyes search Steve’s face, and it seems he finds an answer, because he so gently catches Steve’s lips and opens his lips, the touch languid and sweet and full of everything they never got to say before.

Steve leans back on the bed, letting Bucky fall on top of him, catching Bucky’s fingertips in his and entwining them.

“Get your suits on, boys, it’s time to – oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Steve jumps half a foot, letting out the highest pitched scream he’s ever heard himself make. Bucky rolls off the bed, landing in a defense stance on the floor. Steve, on the other hand, smashes his arm into one of the candles, glass and fire hitting his skin. He shrieks again.

“I thought these two were supposed to be superheroes!” exclaims someone else’s voice, and suddenly there’s water all over Steve’s arm.

Steve looks up to see Natasha laughing hysterically from the door, and Skye standing in front of him with a now empty water bottle in her hand. Natasha loses her balance and whacks her head on a shelf, but keeps laughing. It doesn't seem that funny to Steve.

“It’s a good thing I’ve seen you two naked before,” says Skye, “or else this would be awkward.”

Before Steve can ask what Skye’s talking about, he’s interrupted. “Are those Winter Soldier boxers?” asks Natasha. She picks them up with her toe, tossing them in the air. They land design-up on the bed.

“Wow,” says Skye, “where can I get a pair?”

“Are you two,” says Bucky, who is lying on the bed with his arm draped over his face, “here for anything other than to cock block me?”

Steve stares in befuddlement, and Skye waves it off. “Cock block,” she says, “get in the way of somebody getting laid.” Natasha, Bucky, and Steve give her a “really? Now?” kind of look. “We’ll go over it later.”

“And yeah,” says Natasha, adjusting her belt. It’s only then that Steve realizes Skye’s wearing her mission gear (aka a bullet proof vest, a bulletproof backpack, and her normal clothes – she’s very insistent that she gets a uniform as well) and Natasha’s in her suit. “Suit up. We and Banner are the only Avengers and pals in the area.”

“Weren’t you in DC?” Bucky asks as he throws on his gear. Steve notes that he’s the one pulling on Steve’s Winter Soldier boxers. “How’d you guys get here so fast?”

Skye and Natasha exchange a look. “We might have used that as an excuse to not be disturbed while we spent the weekend at home,” says Skye shiftily, avoiding eyes.

“You two are ridiculous,” says Steve, but he catches the uniform and clothes Bucky throws at him, along with the – “Oh, god, really Bucky?”

“Put on the Iron Man underwear,” says Bucky. “And stop complaining. You couldn't have crammed the boxers into that tight ass uniform anyway."

He has a point.

They’re out the door in seconds, and all through the battle with three Atlantean superfish (superfish? Seriously? This is what he has to deal with?) he thinks of how he’s not sure whether or not he blew out that last candle.

* * *

 

3

“I’m sorry!” Bucky says, barging into the room. “I would have been here earlier, but Stark decided my arm needed an update.”

Steve looks up at Bucky from the couch. “No problem,” he says. “Just been on Wikipedia. Did you know the sea horse dads carry the babies?”

Bucky stares at him. “Seriously?”

“Yeah!” Steve replies, face alight. “It’s so cool, they have this little kangaroo pouch almost.”

“You are so weird.”

Steve shrugs his shoulders. “I am nothing compared to other people on the internet.”

“What do you mean?”

Steve looks visibly uncomfortable. “There’s this thing,” he says, “real person fic? Somebody tweeted me a link to one. It’s of me and Tony.”

“And what is it?” Bucky asks. He throws himself over the couch, settling next to Steve.

“Read.”

It’s an…experience, if Bucky should choose a word. The author is disturbingly aware of Steve and Tony’s personalities, and Bucky has to admit, a few of the things they have Steve saying are weirdly accurate.

“It’s not so bad,” Bucky says.

“They write that Tony and I are secretly in love,” says Steve. “And then we…” He makes a strange little gesture. “Get it on.”

Bucky snorts. “Oh, that’s just grand.”

“Scroll down past the words,” Steve says without emotion.

Bucky squeaks when he sees what Steve was talking about.

“That was you!”

“Yeah.”

“And Stark was – ”

“Yep.”

“And you were – ”

“Uhuh.”

“Wow.” Bucky, despite his shock, can’t actually keep himself from staring at the page. “Your cock’s far bigger than that,” he says.

“Thank you,” says Steve, rolling his eyes. “That’s what you get out of it.”

Bucky shrugs. “I have firsthand knowledge,” he says. “Their art is inaccurate, and I will critique it.”

Steve rolls his eyes and pulls Bucky close. “You’re an idiot.”

Bucky reaches up to cup Steve’s cheek, but he finds it difficult to move his hand from the computer. With a little extra energy, he pulls it off, and kisses Steve.

After a few minutes, with lips and hands and biting smiles, Steve grabs a fistful of Bucky’s shirt, and leans close to whisper, “We’re taking this to the bedroom.”

Bucky lets Steve pull him to the bedroom, loving the commanding tone Steve has when he gets like this.

He falls onto the bed, dragging Bucky on top of them and they kiss, hard and deep and wet, more. Bucky can feel Steve, hard in his jeans, against him, and it’s tempting to just rut against each other like teenagers.

“I got an idea,” Steve says, just as Bucky had made the decision that he certainly did not need pants anymore. “One second.”

He moves so fast that Bucky falls forward into the empty space that Steve had occupied, and has only just gotten his bearings back when Steve turns to him, a devilish grin on his face.

“Well,” he says, swinging a pair of handcuffs in his hands, “are you gonna tie me up? Officer?”

They’ve talked about this – well, Bucky’s talked, Steve just sort of stared at him – and Bucky hadn’t realized Steve was listening.

And apparently he had listened. And had prepared for it.

“Oh my god,” Bucky says.

“Come on,” says Steve, still swinging the handcuffs. “You need to arrest me.” He makes this face that does awful, horrible things to the dirty part of Bucky's mind. "I've done bad things."

Bucky grabs the handcuffs with his flesh hand, grinning.

“You need to get on your knees,” says Bucky, his smile ruining the game, “sir.” Then he points to the bed.

Steve gets on the bed, grinning as he sits on the bed, pouting a bit. “Like this, officer?”

"You're not following the rules," says Bucky, crawling over him. Steve sighs, but he's not good at hiding a smile, and rolls to his knees.

“You have the right,” says Bucky, trying to keep from chuckling a little bit, it's so hard to keep in character, “to remain silent.”

Steve drops a little so his elbows are on the bed. “Aren’t you going to pin me down officer?”

“I know I have to cuff you,” says Bucky, “because you are not doing,” he leans down, pressing his lips right behind Steve’s ear, dragging them up to whisper, “as I say.”

Steve sucks in a gasp, and Bucky goes to open the handcuffs.

And then he can’t dislodge it from his metal arm.

“What the…?” He shakes at the handcuffs, his palm open, but nothing happens.

Steve sits up and turns around. “What’s wrong?”

Bucky’s face is locked on his hand. “I don’t know,” he says, “this has never happened before. Well, it happened with the lap to –” Bucky pauses.

“Bucky?” Steve asks. “What’s that look on your face?”

Bucky turns to him slowly. “Stark magnetized my arm.”

Steve’s jaw drops. “He did what?”

“Fucking Stark,” says Bucky, standing up and grabbing his clothes. He gets the handcuffs stuck in the sleeve, and it rips. “Tony fucking Stark magnetized my hand, Jesus Christ, I’m going to throw him into a wall.”

It looks like Steve has finally gotten the severity of the situation, because he stands up and grabs Bucky by the shoulders. “Hey, Buck, calm down,” he says. “We’ll – ”

Bucky’s arm floats a little too close to Steve’s belt buckle. It sticks. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Come on, Steve!”

"Where are we going?"

"Lab," Bucky responds, "so I can kill Stark."

"Like this?" Steve asks, gesturing to the belt."

"We can't undo the belt with my hand here," says Bucky, "so, yeah."

He marches the two of them down to Stark’s lab, attached to the belt buckle and handcuffs and all, and throws open the door to the lab. “Stark!” he bellows. “You get your punk ass over here before I kick it!”

Steve mutters something like, “I thought you only called me punk,” but Bucky decides to ignore it and glares until Tony comes up to him with a grin on his face like he’s won the lottery.

“What’s up, Bucky?” he says, his eyes locked on Bucky’s metal arm.

“Only Steve calls me Bucky,” Bucky thunders. “All I fucking wanted to do was get fucking laid and YOU decided it was a good fucking idea to magnetize my arm.” His voice is dangerously low now. “And you will fix this, or I will put my foot so far up your ass you will taste combat boot until the day you die.”

“Damn, Cap, your boy really does need to get laid,” says Tony, and Bucky is so startled by the nonchalance that the anger fades for a moment.

“I will throw my shield through your throat,” says Steve, calm and serious, and, Bucky notices, that’s what snaps Tony into doing what he’s told.

The arm’s demagnetization takes fifteen long, annoying minutes where Tony makes lewd comments about the handcuffs and accidentally gets one stuck on his wrist.

“You got a key for this?” Tony asks, waggling the handcuffs.

Bucky turns to Steve. “How about it, Steve?”

Steve makes a move like he’s thinking hard. “You know what?” he says. “I think I lost them. Too bad.”

They walk back to their apartment, but Tony spends the rest of the night blasting heavy metal songs over the intercom.

* * *

 

4

The day Tony Stark sees Frozen is the worst day of Steve’s life. He plays the soundtrack constantly.

You open the refrigerator? “Frozen Heart” plays. You throw anything away? Flush a toilet? “Let it Go” blares. If you open the front doors, “For the First Time in Forever” rings outside and inside the tower. It’s gotten to the point where everyone’s started humming various tracks at incredibly inappropriate times. At one point, Steve catches Bucky humming it when they’re showering together, and Bucky resorted to giving him a blow job to make him stop mocking it for it.

But the worst thing, the absolute worst part of it all, is that if you knock on a door, “Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?” plays.

Tony installs this without telling anybody, so that the first time Steve hears it, he’s knocking on the door to the room Natasha still keeps and occasionally stays in on days when Skye is away or she’s needed for a possible mission or crisis.

“Nat?” he calls before he knocks. “You in there?”

He knocks rapidly on the door, and the song is so loud he stumbles a little. From inside the room, he hears two different voices screaming and one of them swearing with words Steve’s not actually sure he’s ever heard.

“I’m sorry!” he shouts. “I didn’t know that was going to –”

The door flies open and, to Steve’s surprise, Skye’s standing there, her hair disheveled and her bra mostly hanging off of her shoulder. “Can you read?!” she shouts.

Steve frowns. “Excuse me?”

Skye gestured with her arm, the bra precariously swinging across her chest. “Look over there, Cap.”

He follows where she’s pointing, and sees a sign that says, “Yell don’t knock – Tony’s an idiot.”

“Oh,” he says quietly, “I’m sorry.”

“Well you better be!” exclaims Skye, and she throws her hands up in the air and, whoops the bra flies up with them. Steve maintains eye contact. “I was going to get laid and then, no, you make Frozen play and it ruins the mood.”

“Didn’t ruin the mood for me!” comes Natasha’s voice from inside the room.

Skye rolls her eyes. “She once played Zydrate Anatomy from freaking Repo! when we were having sex once and didn’t have any clue why I stopped her.”

Steve sighs. “That’s Nat for you.”

“Anyway,” says Skye, hands on her hips. “Why are you here?”

Steve blinks. “I – I can’t exactly remember.”

Skye stares at him. “You interrupted sex, and you can’t remember why.”

Steve smiles apologetically, and then stumbles as Skye unexpectedly shoves him in the chest. “I’m sorry!” says Steve. “I think it was something to do with – Fury?”

In half a second Natasha’s at the door. “Fury needs me?”

It comes back to Steve. “Yeah, something about Oahu?”

Natasha darts away and then flies out the door, a pile of clothing in her arms. She stops a few feet away, turns back, and presses a firm kiss to Skye’s lips. Then she books it out of there.

Skye glares at Steve. “You cost me an orgasm,” she says with a glower. “There will be payback.”

Steve is very uncomfortable with the fact that a tiny person like Skye can intimidate him.

And he’s right to be intimidated, as payback comes swiftly. He’s got Bucky in the shower, pressed up against the wall, and he’s begging for it in a way that goes straight to Steve’s cock.

“Come on, Steve,” Bucky pants, “please, just –”

“Do you want to build a snowman?”

Steve’s jaw drops. “Oh no.”

“PAYBACK’S A BITCH!” screams a voice that is certainly Skye, and the song starts playing, almost in a round, as Skye knocks violently on every single door in their apartment.

Bucky sighs so deeply and for so long Steve’s concerned he might be exhaling himself to death.

“I’m going to kill her,” grumbles Bucky.

“Who?” Steve asks over the music. “Skye?”

“No,” he grumbles, “Anna.”

* * *

 

5

Steve’s phone goes off at 1am one morning – Bucky’s going to literally stab himself in the eye if he doesn’t change it from America, Fuck Yeah! soon – and Bucky just groans and presses his face into the pillow. He’s awake now. It’ll take hours to get back to sleep. He might as well stay up.

“Really?” Steve whines, and he throws his arm over his face. “Now?”

“Who is it?” Bucky whispers, peering over at Steve. His face is weirdly blue in the cell phone light.

“Hold on a minute.” Steve turns to him. “It’s Sam. Apparently there’s a party going on downstairs that we are needed for.”

“It’s one in the morning!”

“Apparently no one else decided sleep was an option.”

Steve puts the phone up into the ear. “No we are not old men! Oh yeah? Fine. We’re on our way.” Steve drops the phone on the bedside table and sits up.

“They call us old again?” Bucky asks.

Steve nods. “I’m biologically twenty seven years old. I’m going to go down there and party with the old geezers.”

Bucky sighs and nods. “I’ll go with you. Solidarity.” He yawns and stretches. “At least nobody knocked on the door.”

Steve chuckles and presses his lips to Bucky’s neck. “Yeah.”

They get downstairs, forsaking a shower for a splash of water on the face and a hairbrush, and see that there is actually a party going on. A real, actual party, with music and popcorn and streamers.

“How did all of this happen when we were asleep?” Steve asks. “We would have heard something, right?”

Sam dances over to them. “Hey, guys!” he says, eyes bright from the alcohol. “You’ve got to try the punch, it’s AWESOME.”

Steve sighs. “I can’t get drunk, Sam.”

“But I can!” Bucky exclaims. “Come on, I’ll drink the whole thing. It’ll be funny, and I might actually get hammered for once.”

Steve laughs. “Give it the old college try, right?”

“I wouldn’t,” says Natasha, appearing out of nowhere. “There’s Asgardian Ale in there. And we all remember what happened last time.”

Bucky grins at the same time Sam and Skye grin. “Oh I remember,” says Bucky. “Kind of why I want to see it happen again.”

Steve snorts. “Well, if everybody else is doing it, I guess I will.”

“I can just see the headlines,” says Skye. “Captain America Endorses Peer Pressure.”

“Captain America also endorses loud sex and handcuffs, from what we’ve heard,” Sam adds, and he had to have expected the light punch in the gut from Steve.

They get just tipsy enough that Bucky can get Steve to dance. And by that, he means that Steve’s had enough that he wants to dance. It’s always fun to see Steve’s attempts at modern dancing – still not quite in control of his hips, but big enough that it’s not a huge problem. Bucky grabs Steve’s waist and pulls him close.

“Now that I’m awake,” says Steve, “I’m kind of glad Sam called.”

Bucky hums in agreement, turning so that Steve can wrap his arms around Bucky’s middle.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to get handsy – and Bucky means handsy, pushing Bucky’s shirt up and pressing his lips to Bucky’s pulse point, sucking hard enough that Bucky knows there will be a mark there in the morning.

“Closet,” says Bucky, “come on.”

He moves to drag Steve somewhere they can be alone, somewhere he can get his hands all over Steve, but then somebody drags him away and pulls Steve in the opposite direction.

“I was getting jealous,” says Darcy.

“Okay, I know you’ve claimed me as your dance buddy, but, seriously, if Steve’s dancing, I’m going to dance with him. That is an opportunity no one should miss.”

“Well,” she says, draping her arms around his neck, “don’t I just get one song?”

The way she’s pouting so pretty, a little smile behind it, gets him thinking about the way he used to dance with the girls at the dance halls. Girls are fun to hold, curvy and soft, and that’s the reason he usually goes with Darcy whenever there’s music.

“I guess,” Bucky sighs, like it’s a chore, and he places one hand on her hip and takes her own with his metal hand. They way across the dance floor, weaving in and out of other pairings, until they happen upon where Skye and Natasha have basically sandwiched Steve and Sam, who look like they have no idea how they’ve gotten where they are, but they’re not going to fight it.

“See?” says Skye to Sam. “Old dudes, dancing like it’s the forties.”

“Did you see how we were dancing earlier?” Bucky asks. “Because if a guy pulled those moves in a dance hall back when we were kids, somebody would probably kick his ass.”

“Not to mention,” says Steve, turning to dance closer to Skye, “we’re two guys, and that would have gotten us arrested.”

“Please don’t make this angsty,” says Skye. “Right now I just want to enjoy the fact that Captain America is totally feeling me up.”

Bucky laughs, but stops immediately when Natasha’s expression changes. In half a second, she’s moved away from Sam, grabbed Skye’s hand, and pulled her into –

“Hey!” Bucky whines, dropping his hands from Darcy’s waist. “That was our place to bang in public!”

Steve shoots Bucky an evil look. “Watch this.”

When he pounds on the closet door and it starts singing, he and Bucky are pretty sure they haven’t run that fast to get away from something since the Nazis were trying to kill them.

They realize they’ve miscalculated when, fifteen minutes later, Natasha and Skye have been knocking on their front door for ten straight minutes.

* * *

 

+1

So Bucky’s going back to school. So what? Biotechnical engineering is cool, and Stark was so excited when Bucky just halfway mentioned it that he gave Bucky the numbers of every professor he’s ever worked with, and threw him at Fitzsimmons to get some preliminary background work down.

He’s at school part time, technically, since being a SHIELD agent kind of does take up some time occasionally, but he loves the time when he can cover his arm and just be a normal guy. Steve also really likes the geek aesthetic, Bucky thinks. He’s started wearing glasses – because they’re cool, damn it, he doesn’t care what Stark says, he isn’t a hipster – as a bit of a disguise. Steve makes him leave them on when they fuck, and Bucky really doesn’t mind.

He’s leaving his Introduction to Writing class – mandatory for all freshmen, though he doesn’t quite consider himself a freshman – when he overhears some girls in his class talking about the guy outside.

“He’s got a leather jacket and a motorcycle,” one girl says. “That automatically qualifies him for banging privileges.”

Bucky peers out the window to where they’re looking, interested to see who they’re talking about.

His heart just about leaps out of his chest, because he’d recognize that body anywhere.

Steve’s out there, leaning against his bike, wearing dark denim jeans and this motorcycle jacket that hugs his body sinfully. Underneath, there’s a white, thin shirt that leaves very little to the imagination. He’s wearing sunglasses too.

“Oh my god,” Bucky says, low and quiet.

“I know, right?” One of the girls replies. Bucky hadn’t realized he’d been loud enough for other people to hear, and he’s about to hightail it out of there before he remembers that it’s the 2010’s and he’s allowed to be into men. “God, he’s the kind who just pushes you against the wall and fucks you until you scream, I can just tell.”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighs dreamily, “he really is.”

The girl turns to him, and she and her friends gasp in tandem. “No way,” she says.

“Are you dating him?” her friend asks. “You’re so lucky. Is he as good as he looks?”

“Better,” Bucky says, feeling a little weird that he’s talking about this with strangers in his class. It’s only the third day the class has met, and he feels an odd sort of excitement that he’s making friends. “But he doesn’t normally dress like that.”

The girl nudges him with her elbow. “Maybe he’s trying to stake his claim on you,” she says, waggling her eyebrows. “Doesn’t want any of the girls or boys here taking you away.”

Bucky laughs. “Not sure that could happen.”

“Right?” the other girl says. “I mean, look at him.”

“You two totally have this nerd and the bad boy thing going on, don’t you?” Then she frowns. “Oh my god, I’m being so rude. I’m Emma and this is Morgan.” Emma shakes his hand, and Morgan waves shyly.

“James,” Bucky replies. He’s thought about using Bucky in public, but James gives him a little more anonymity and he thinks it suits the modern him. On top of that, he really likes the idea that only Steve gets to call him Bucky.“It’s really good to meet you two.”

“It’s good to meet you too.” Emma’s smile is bright and sunny, and the three of them chatter about classes, and possible term paper topics, as they walk outside into the sunlit parking lot.

It takes a few moments before he feels Steve come over, his arm wrapping around Bucky’s waist. Bucky was secretly hoping he could get a little jealousy out of Steve. It seemed like it could be fun.

“Hello, ladies,” Steve says, and he pulls off his glasses. And the little shit runs his fingers through his hair. “I see you’ve met my boyfriend.”

“We were just admiring your shoulders in the jacket,” Bucky says, eyeing him up. “That’s new, isn’t it?”

Steve laughs, and there’s the blush that appears on his cheeks lets Bucky know that, no matter what’s on the outside, he’ll always be Bucky’s Steve. Bucky finds himself leaning into Steve’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Just got it.”

“Looks good on you,” says Emma, and she winks at Bucky, goofy enough to make them all laugh.

Morgan grins. “I have a bike a little like that one. What make is it?”

Suddenly, Steve and Morgan go off on a ten minute discussion about the motorcycle to the point where there are actual words thrown around that Bucky doesn’t understand.

“You have any clue what they’re saying?” Emma asks. “You’re a biotech major, right?”

“Doesn’t mean I have any clue about modern motorcycles.” For a split second, Bucky thinks he’s given himself away, but Emma doesn’t notice at all.

By the time the conversation’s over, Bucky’s sure he must have burned a hole through the leather jacket, because the more he looks at Steve, the more the look really turns him on.

He swallows hard. “Hey, Steve,” he says, resting a hand on Steve’s arm. “We need to head home. Got to do something.”

Emma shoots him a knowing look. “I’ll see you later, James,” she says, and she and Morgan walk away.

“You need to take me home and fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow,” says Bucky firmly.

Steve actually pulls his sunglasses down to look over them at Bucky. “That’s forward.”

“I’m going to need you to drive the motorcycle forward,” says Bucky, “or I’m going to jump you right now.”

Steve sighs and leans against his motorcycle. “I don’t know,” he says, pulling his sunglasses off. “Not sure how my boyfriend would feel about it.” He turns back to Bucky. “Metal arm, ass to die for. Bluest eyes you’ve ever seen.”

“You don’t have to seduce me,” says Bucky, “I’m, like, ready to go. I am so ready. I’m – ”

Steve wraps his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and drags him in, kissing him firmly enough that Bucky’s knees are half melting, and Bucky decides his only option is to fight just as dirty as Steve is.

He slides his hands up the front of Steve’s shirt and tugs at his lip with his teeth, feeling Steve gasp into his mouth.

He palms the front of Steve’s jeans, and Steve makes this delicious moan that goes straight to Bucky’s cock.

“Okay,” says Steve, “on the bike. Now. Right now.”

They break every single speed limit and a couple of laws by the time they reach Avengers Tower again.

Steve parks the bike, and Bucky's pulling Steve’s jacket off before Steve’s even off of the bike.

“Here?” Steve laughs. Bucky replies with a smug grin.

“The girls at school gave me the idea,” he says, “I’m just taking it a step further.”

Steve presses Bucky up against the wall and doesn’t take even half a second to take off the rest of his clothes, just pulls Bucky’s jeans down around his ankles, grinning up at him, still wearing those sunglasses, and Bucky lets out a deep groan as Steve licks up Bucky’s cock and then swallows him down.

Bucky’s arms fly out to the sides, searching for purchase, but the only thing he can find is a strange protrusion on the wall that he hits and hangs on to. The other hand tangles gently in Steve’s hair.

Bucky finds himself muttering Steve’s name, as Steve works his mouth, his tongue, and it’s so slow and so perfect.

“Fuck, Steve,” Bucky gasps, “please.”

Steve pulls his mouth off of Bucky’s cock, kissing along Bucky’s thighs. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Bucky.”

“No, shut up, a bad boy wouldn’t say that,” says Bucky. “Play the part.”

“Then you have to be geekier,” says Steve.

“I’m a biotech major,” says Bucky, “in three gen ed classes. You want me to talk nerdy to you?”

“Sure,” says Steve, smirking up at him, “and I’ll just suck you off slowly until you can only scream my name.”

Bucky swallows. “Y-yeah,” he says, “that? That’s just about right.”

Steve grins. “So talk, baby.”

Bucky barely has time to register that, huh, that’s a new, interesting nickname, before lips wrap around him again and his head drops against the wall. “So today in class,” Bucky tries, biting his lip and trying not to thrust into Steve’s mouth, “I learned all about the –”

Steve moves his mouth away. “Go back to begging,” Steve says.

Bucky nods. “Yes, sir.”

He doesn’t even have to make anything up – the way Steve runs his tongue along the underside of Bucky’s cock, the way he grips at Bucky’s thighs, the way he looks up to lock eyes with Bucky, it’s all Bucky can do to beg shamelessly.

“Oh, god, Steve,” Bucky gasps. “I’m gonna –”

He cries Steve’s name like a prayer, and grips onto the leather of the jacket.

He comes down slowly, the stars in his eyes slowly fading as he comes back to himself.

“Wow,” says Steve. “Jacket really does it for you, huh?”

“Definitely,” says Bucky, still gasping. “Very definitely.”

“If you’re both done now,” comes a voice, and, no matter how much they look around, they don’t see anyone, “it would be nice if you hadn’t broken the intercom and broadcast that to literally the entire building.”

“Tony?” Steve says. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, no,” says Bucky, and it’s basically horror as he turns. Sure enough, the thing he had been gripping with his metal hand was the intercom system, and it looks like he pressed the button so hard it broke, keeping the system in permanent outgoing message mode.

“Oh, yes,” says Tony, “Thanks to you, I now know that not only Rogers likes it when Barnes begs, but Barnes likes bad boy Steve in a leather jacket. Did I want to know that? No. But now I do.”

Steve drops his head against Bucky’s shoulder. “Oh my god.”

“I know,” laughs Bucky. “They just all heard me come.”

“We can still hear you!” and, oh god, that’s definitely Clint.

“Needy!” they hear Skye shout. “Barnes is needy!”

Steve sighs. “Upstairs?”

“Please.”

By the time they get upstairs, Bucky’s slowly getting hard again, because he made the poor decision to walk behind Steve. He sees those broad shoulders in that jacket, that ass in those sinfully tight jeans.

He sighs.

“What’s wrong?” asks Steve as he presses the button for the elevator.

“Your ass looks amazing,” Bucky sighs. “And that’s just not fair.”

They step into the elevator, and Steve smirks at Bucky.

“I know that smirk,” says Bucky. “What are you –”

The look on Steve’s face shuts Bucky up fast, and he crowds Bucky up against the wall. Bucky loops his arms around Steve’s neck. “Well, hello, soldier,” he says.

Steve rolls his eyes and kisses Bucky hard, and then, somehow Bucky is shoved up against the wall, held up by Steve’s strong hands under his ass as he wraps his legs around Steve’s waist.

It’s lips and tongues and hands, and Bucky can’t think straight. He grips at Steve’s shoulders, moaning into his mouth.

Then the elevator dings. Bucky has half a second to pull away, and then to see Bruce and Tony there with expressions of complete disbelief.

“Are you kidding me?!” Stark says, his voice high. “Four point eight minutes. It takes four point eight minutes to get from the garage to your floor, and you couldn’t keep your hands off each other in my goddamn elevator for four point eight fucking minutes.”

Bucky shrugs and presses the button to close the elevator doors.

It feels like hours before they reach their apartment, and then slam through the door, leaving a trail of clothes behind them as they reach the bed. Bucky whines as Steve takes his time slicking up his fingers, sliding them in one by one until there’s three, dragging them in and out of Bucky so slowly it’s an ache.

“C’mon, Steve,” pants Bucky, “I need you, come on, I need you.”

Steve leans over him, sucking a wet kiss into Bucky’s neck. “If you say so.”

Steve fills him perfectly, and he takes it slow, agonizingly slow, and pulls Bucky into his lap. It’s lazy, rolling hips and gasping, open mouths, until Bucky can tell Steve’s on the edge by the way his rhythm breaks.

Steve reaches to Bucky, strokes him with the beat of every thrust, until Bucky’s coming, and then Steve, and they collapse to the bed, spent and exhausted.

Bucky pulls Steve closer to him, kissing him lightly.

“Love you,” he murmurs, “love you so much.”

Steve chuckles into Bucky’s skin, burying his face into Bucky’s shoulder.

“I love you,” says Steve, and he rolls them so Bucky is wrapped in Steve’s arms, his back pressed to Steve’s front.

Bucky yawns.

“Hey,” says Steve, “twice in a row and we didn’t get interrupted.”

“Elevator,” says Bucky.

“We weren’t fucking in the elevator.”

Bucky snorts. “We got damned close.”

Steve presses a kiss to Bucky’s shoulder and runs his fingertips up and down his arm. “I’m still counting it.”

They’re talking, nothing important, just little words of nothing as they touch, when somebody bangs on the door.

Instead of Frozen, it’s some electronic song that soon after Bucky recognizes at Daft Punk.

“Did they start playing Harder Better Faster Stronger?” Steve asks, having to half shout over the music.

Bucky just groans.

**Author's Note:**

> This may be in-universe with the Natasha/Skye fic I'm working on.


End file.
